


the walls i built around you

by memorysdaughter



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorysdaughter/pseuds/memorysdaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pike overhears a conversation between Zahra and Vax that makes her reconsider her place within Vox Machina.</p><p>Post-44.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the walls i built around you

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. I read a great Pike/Vax fic the other day that inspired me to write more fic, so, here's this.
> 
> Title is from "Hello My Old Heart" by The Oh Hellos.

Pike hasn’t been sleeping well for a while.  If she’s going to be truthful, she hasn’t had quality rest since she left Vox Machina and started working on the temple at Vasselheim.  Every time she tries to relax, to let her mind empty, she’s seized with restless energy.  It starts at her core and pushes outwards and eventually leaves her so heartsick that she cannot bear to lie still for another moment more.

So she walks.

At the temple in Vasselheim she paced from altar to statue, from statue to icon, from icon to the top of the tower, from there all the way back to the altar.  She could do a complete circle in a little more than ten minutes, and at one point she kept a tally of how many circles she made a night before the sun rose red and bawling over the roofs of the divine city, carving little notches into the soft wood of the staff she used while she was on patrol (safer than her mace, just in case the person she tried to attack was one of the temple’s faithful coming to check on their exhausted, jumpy leader, but more helpful than nothing, just in case it wasn’t).

If she had such a tally here in Whitestone, the entire staff would be nothing more than a pile of splinters.  She keeps no such tally now for she makes no circles.  She goes from one end of the castle’s long hallway to the other, waiting for the restless energy at her core to release its sticky-fingered grip on her heart, praying to Sarenrae for sleep to swallow her up.

She knows it’s not good.  It’s not safe, for a healer to be worn so ragged.  She’s responsible for people now – Gilmore; the sovereign’s wife; all of the rest of the refugees.  They depend on her.  And if Pike cannot stand… who will they look to?

It is a question with no good answers.

Nevertheless she looks for those answers as she paces, body heavy with fatigue.  Her steps take on the same challenge as dragging a sack of wet cement down a hallway.

At the far end of the corridor she pauses, hearing voices.  She recognizes them after a few beats – Zahra, one of Vox Machina’s new acquaintances, and Vax, obviously having some sort of argument.

“… why wasn’t she there, Vax?  She could have saved Vex’ahlia!”

“Don’t you think I know that?  Don’t you think _she_ knows that?” Vax’s voice is steadier than Zahra’s.  He’s had practice at what Pike calls “quiet arguments”; she knows from experience that sometimes the quieter Vax is, the angrier he is.

“Then _why_ wasn’t she there?  She’s one of yours, isn’t she?”

“You don’t know her like we do.”

“I know what I know,” Zahra replies, voice brassy. “And I know that _your cleric_ wasn’t there to save _your sister_ from death!  Is she on your side or isn’t she?”

A knot of cold anger drops into Pike’s belly, sickly twining with the restless trembles shuddering through her.  Tears flood her eyes.  Zahra is talking about _her_.

“Of _course_ she’s on our side!  She just has… responsibilities.”

Zahra scoffs. “To whom?  Isn’t she Vox Machina’s?”

“We’re not _owned_ by the group,” Vax snaps.

“Face it, Vax.  She leaves you when you need her the most,” Zahra says simply.  It’s infuriating how calm she sounds.  Pike feels rage spiral up through her toes. “Seems to me that Pike isn’t one of you.”

Vax says nothing.

Tears spill down Pike’s cheeks and her next breath feels like a punch in the chest.  A sob escapes her mouth before she can stop it.

“If she loved you, she would have stayed.  She would have been there to bring Vex’ahlia back,” Zahra goes on. “And the fact that she wasn’t, the fact that she couldn’t…”

Pike feels her knees give way and she crumples into a ball on the floor.  She pulls her knees to her chest and rocks back and forth, body shaking with sobs.

 _It’s true_ , a voice whispers in her ear.  _They saved you once, and you couldn’t even be there to repay that kindness.  What kind of a cleric are you?  What kind of a friend are you?_

Pain shoots through her side, a brilliant firework of indignity lancing up her side, running through the scar that remained after her own death and resurrection.  Pike lets out a choked, panicked noise.

Light floods the hallway in front of her and some horrified part of her realizes Vax stands before her in the opened doorway.

She’s expecting disappointment.  Revulsion.  Hatred.  Anger.

Instead she sees only sympathy.  Concern.  Care.  Love.

Pike tries to speak but no words come out.  Fresh tears stream down her face and she tries to get her next breath in.

Vax kneels before her and reaches out a bit hesitantly. “Pike,” he says gently. “Pike, breathe.”

She gasps at him, wordlessly, heart pounding, and tries to reach out for him.  Her hands shake as though they’re caught in an earthquake.

Vax nods. “Okay,” he murmurs softly.  Without another word he scoops her up from the floor, wraps his arms around her, and stands, carrying her down the hallway.

Against his chest Pike gulps air, pain still spearing her belly, hands fluttering like perseverating birds.  Vax murmurs things to her, things she can’t comprehend but which somehow calm her.  He carries her into the small room where she’s been staying and lays her down on the bed.

“You have to sleep,” Vax says carefully, and those words get through.

Pike clings to him, clenched fingers suddenly unwilling to let go. “Please.  Please don’t leave me here,” she begs.

“I won’t leave,” Vax promises, and he strokes her hair. “I won’t leave.”

Another round of sobs shudder their way through Pike’s body. “I heard what she said,” she chokes out. “She was right.  You should just leave me.”

Vax freezes.

“I wasn’t there to save Vex!” Pike cries. “I could have saved her and I _wasn’t there!”_

At that Vax climbs onto the bed with her and pulls her towards him. “Don’t talk like that,” he says firmly. “You don’t have any control over…”

“I could have _saved_ her!” Pike protests, hot tears burning her cheeks. “What _good_ am I if I can’t…”

Vax wraps his arms around her. “Stop.”

“I’m not any good to you!”

Vax cradles her, rocks her back and forth. “No one feels adequate in these kinds of situations,” he whispers into her hair. “When I saw her lying there it was as though my heart had been ripped out of my body.  I could do nothing.  Everything I’ve learned, everything I know – all of it fell away when faced with the one thing I fear most – _losing someone_.  I cannot bear the thought of losing any one of us.

“So you weren’t there.  I wasn’t helpful.  Percival wasn’t helpful.  We floundered around like idiots, like we were trying to do needlework while wearing mittens.  We all become bumbling children in the face of death, Pike, it is the nature of the beast.  She’s…” Vax takes a deep breath, as though trying to convince himself. “… she’s alive.  Vex’ahlia is alive.  We have another chance to fight on.”

Pike hiccups.

He brings his hand up and strokes her hair again. “And you, Pike… you are responsible for more of those chances to fight on than any of the rest of us.  You weren’t there _this time_.  The fact that you are still alive means there will be more chances.  That there are others in the world you _can_ help.  The fact that Vox Machina stood without you means you gave us the strength to stand on.  Do you understand that?”

Pike nods blearily.

Vax nods, too. “Good,” he says softly, and he brings one hand up to touch the scar on her face. “You’re a miracle.  You’re a blessing from Sarenrae.  And anyone who makes you try to feel inadequate, like you don’t belong with Vox Machina, is an absolute idiot.”

He shifts her in his arms. “You belong to us,” he whispers. “And we belong to you.  You’re our heart.  You’re our conscience.  You’re truly the best of us.”

Pike’s eyes drift close.

“And we’ll keep you safe,” Vax murmurs. “So you can keep us safe.”


End file.
